How Instagram Ironically Helped Me Love My Body Even More

I can spend hours on Instagram. Sue me.  

Being that it's my social media app of choice, I can easily spend hours just scrolling. It always starts off with a purpose like career stalking or looking for fashion inspo, but somehow, (not even sure if this is much of a coincidence anymore) I end up in a bottomless pit of Shaderoom posts, instagram boutiques, and usually the women that advertise for them. 

Although this archetype varies, I'm usually bombarded with images of racially ambiguous, hyper-curvacious women with enhanced lips; most of which strongly resemble a variation of Kim Kardashian and Kylie Jenner. With that being said, there's nothing wrong with Instagram boutiques or the women that support them. There's also nothing wrong with enhancing your body if that's what you choose to do. This isn't about shaming women for the decisions they make. But in a world with so much emphasis on physical perfection, it can get hard to digest those images on a daily basis. Often times as women, we internalize them-- both consciously and subconsciously. 

Some of us hoard images of these bodies in our phones as "#goals", signifying what we'd like to look like. We begin a fitness journey and plan to look like that girl by the time that journey is over, instead of leading with obtaining a healthy lifestyle. Some of us aren't on a fitness journey but for some reason, the urge for a fatter ass or fuller lips consumes us, and we can't figure out why. It's because these are literally the images we are being force fed by social media. There's no harm in having health goals but when they are driven by unrealistic images, that's where things get tricky. Suddenly, you're consumed by insecurities that didn't even exist before.

Outside of a few insecurities, I never really had body image issues. Of course there were things that I was insecure about growing up (like my fat fingers, my fat feet, my teenage acne), but at a really young age, my mom instilled in me that that was the way God made me. And in true mommy fashion, she assured me that God makes no mistakes. She instilled in me at a young age to learn to love every part of me. And although, it took most of my childhood, I finally learned to do that. 

At some point, I decided that I was no longer going to hold myself or others to a standard of beauty that honestly, doesn't really exist. Half the time, the people who look like this, don't even really look like this. Ironically enough, seeing all these images didn't make me want to look like them but it pushed me to become even more comfortable within my own skin. My fat hands and fat feet make me who I am. The way my solid thighs contradict my narrow hips is what makes me, me. Finding peace with the fact that you may look different than others is hard but once you do, it's a hard place to leave.  

Insecure AF in America

I'm not a super political person. I don't like to push my views (or my lack there of) onto other people. However, in this particular instance, I feel compelled to say something. 

Today, Donald Trump was declared our 45th president.

Waking up to this news was not easy. In fact, I can remember not even wanting to get out of bed. Hearing that news made me want to curl up in my bed, shut the world out while simultaneously eating my feelings. But I decided that doing that wouldn't make me feel any better because the next day, when I decide to go to work, Trump would still be our next president. So I went to work and only did one of those things. I guess you can say I'm a stress eater. 

It's hard to determine who to exactly point the finger at. For me, I'd like to point the finger at us democrats. A lot of my peers say that they wanted Bernie but the problem is that Bernie didn't make it as far as he should've. We didn't make sure he made it. In result, most of us got "stuck" with Hillary as our candidate. She definitely wasn't the number one choice, but she was all we had. At that point, it was our responsibility to do what we needed to do. Needless to say, we didn't. Now here we are, with our foot in our mouths wondering how the hell did we let Trump win. Although I still cringe at our future pres and what this means for me as a young, black woman in America, I still accept responsibility for my lack of action.

In a world, ruled by social media and public opinion, my peers took to the internet to voice their feelings toward the state of our country and the candidates. My generation has probably been the most vocal on both subjects, however it wasn't enough. The Trump memes and retaliation against his racist and sexist slurs just wasn't enough. Trump tapped into a set a voters that we all clearly forgot about and got them to vote, while most of us sat idle behind the same machines that spewed out the election results we didn't want to accept. The millenials: all bark, no bite.

Since the election, I've come to terms with this horrible reality. I won't support it, but I do have to accept it. I know personally, I didn't do all I could. From the very beginning, in the primaries, I didn't vote for Bernie; I didn't vote at all. I also didn't vote in my local elections. Most of us only come out of political hiding every four years to vote for president and think that that one election alone is going to change things. It starts in our towns and cities, it starts in our states. It's way bigger than choosing president. 

The Gold Lining: Your Twenties

As a twenty-four year old, I find myself in strange place. It's somewhere in between having a full-time job and still needing to mooch off of family members. Or trying to build my credit but at times, having a negative balance in my checking account. What do I call this juxtaposition? This part is called your twenties. 

It's hard here but not for the obvious reasons. Yeah, we're usually broke, living with family, and living from paycheck to paycheck, but that's not the brunt of it.  We're also high strung, inpatient, and unappreciative of our position in the world most of the time. Being a millennial ignites a shitload of confidence but also applies an insane amount of pressure. The times of using your twenties to figure shit out are long and gone. Your twenties are crucial. Your twenties are now. 

After being in a slump about my current employment and overall life situation, I decided to get some positive reinforcement and I began The Defining Decade, a book I had been itching to read. A few of my friends found it very helpful and inspiring in their journey to the dirty thirty, so I decided to see what the hype was about. So far I like it. Despite being within the first few pages of the first chapter, I feel like I've already gained some insight. The author made a very interesting point that I briefly mentioned earlier.

Dr. Meg Jay stresses that many of us twenty-somethings have been misinformed about where we are in our lives. A lot of us have been told that thirty is the new twenty or that your life starts at thirty. While I don't necessarily think that there's ever a wrong time to get your shit together, I do hear her. She believes that your twenties are probably the most significant years of your adult life because they set the tone for the rest of it. It's sort of similar to muscle memory or like when your mom used to make you make your bed everyday so one day,  it would become a habit. These years are not only supposed to be used for experimenting but to purposefully self-explore, in all aspects of your life. Like I mentioned, I'm only beginning the book but I have a feeling it's going to be great. I have a few concerns of my own that I'm saving for the love and careers chapter. But until I reach those sections, I'll keep doing my field research.

So where do we go from here? How do we capitalize off of what may feel like some of the most uncertain and undeveloped years of our lives? Shit, I don't know. But I do know that taking the time to realize how much you have accomplished in your short time as an adult can make you feel better. Everyone is figuring it out, no one has the answers. Quite honestly, I don't believe there is one answer to making the most out of your twenties; I just think it's imperative to live them with purpose and intention. 

It's also one of the last times you'll be able to consume whatever you want.